


Unfinished

by CastielsCarma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Might not, might pick up later, unfinished works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28389792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: So, I have a bunch of things that I've started but haven't finished (and I'm not sure if I ever will) so I'll just post them here. There will be warnings about pairings within each new chapter.The azure fires have breached the city walls. Rumors about a feather that can stop the fires, make the King order a nationwide search for the elusive object.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 1





	1. Azure flames

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have a bunch of things that I've started but haven't finished (and I'm not sure if I ever will) so I'll just post them here. There will be warnings and tags within each new story.
> 
> High Fantasy, Destiel, 2.7k,  
> (No Cas in this one)  
> Rating: GA

The fire started in the bakery. The smoke wafting into the adjacent room where loaves of bread were carefully being wrapped, even though the sun was yet to make an appearance for another couple of hours, was not a warning or any real concern for Heleb. She muttered under her breath, grabbed her rolling pin with the wholehearted intention of smacking some sense into Fralla. If the girl kept forgetting rye buns in the oven it was not _she_ who would lose her baking license. Burnt bread Heleb could handle, but just the notion that she would come under suspicion for keeping extra flour for herself made her sweat. She had her quota to fill, burnt buns be damned.

As she entered the room, the rolling pin was swiftly dropped onto the floor, all notions of scolding Fralla gone. What Heleb saw made her cold with dread. Large azure flames engulfed the three huge stone ovens, and the thick sturdy wooden beams holding up the ceiling were already charred and burning.

The apprentice, Fralla, had a bucket brimming with water in her hands, dough sticking to her arms, flour in her hair, and wild panic in her eyes.

“Mistress Heleb, the fire won't give!”  
  


For a brief moment, Heleb forgot all of her panic at the azure flames, that the city itself had been breached. She went over to the girl and smacked the bucket of water out of her hands.

“Now is not the time to be dimwitted! Of course, the fire won't give! Run to the chest, girl, and grab the books and recipes. And toll the bell! I'll meet you outside.”

“The bell? Should we really call _The Dragons_? Are you sure? Wouldn't the guard suffice?”

Ignoring Fralla with her plethora of questions, she called out. “Just toll the bell, girl!” Heleb made good on her own words and grabbed the three books with all the knowledge and recipes she had accumulated over the years. She ran out of the building in search of soldiers wearing the dark green armor of the King's own; silently praying that she would have a bakery to come back to.

***

Dean grabbed the pommel of his sword tightly, a silent reminder not to let his eyes drift to the scene playing out to his left. Looking out over the crowd he recognized most of Juna's high nobility. They were all in their finery; the women in different shades of green, blue, and brown silk dresses with the traditional golden Juna square embroidered in intricate patterns around their necklines spilling down the front of the dresses to continue around the hem. The men wore embroidered white or gray tunicscovered with dark coatsthat reached mid-thigh, **s** tockings and leather shoes. All of them proudly displayed the Juna square, some just around the lapels of their coats while other lords men saw fit to adorn the hem of the coats, the arms, and even the back. Some wore brooches and jewelry displaying their House symbols, while other noblemen were bolder: a silk sash across their chests.

The King of Juna, Charles Theon, the first of his name sat upon his throne, waiting for the final attendees to arrive in the throne room. Dean could already imagine the King's jaw clenched, black boot restlessly tapping on the polished stone floor. They had not been privy to the King's and the mage's argument two weeks prior when the rumors first started swirling about the azure fire _inside_ the walls of Juna.

The King's voice was soft as he spoke, but there was a resolve in it that Dean hadn't heard for a long time. “No.”

Dean's hand slowly slid down from the pommel to touch the sword's grip, fingers wrapping around softly. He had no doubt that other Jade did the same. Dean's eyes locked onto the Magi.

“No?” Michael, the mage said exclaimed, incredulous that the King had declined to heed his advice. Turning around to face the King, his colorful robe in brilliant blue with tiny golden dragons swirled. The wide arms were so long that a good part of the ends were brushing against the floor. His dark skin was as impeccable as ever, not a sign of a wrinkle. A decade in Juna had barely made an impact on features that Dean admitted were beautiful, when not twisted in anger. Michael's eyes narrowed, ire sparking briefly before a semblance of calm returned to him again.

Not for the first time, Dean wondered how Michael hadn't tripped and fallen on his nose, or better yet a sword wearing that robe. He exhaled, chastising himself. For now, the King still trusted Michael, so Dean followed suit. The King's word was law.

“I assure you, King, this is but an anomaly, a one of a kind event that will not repeat itself. The crystals in all the Towers have been inspected and are sound and safe. Has Juna not been safe for almost a decade?”

Dean was in no position to question the King, nor did he have the desire to do so. He had sworn an oath to protect the King, obey him, and carry out his wishes, to protect the kingdom itself, but above all else be the King's personal sword and shield.

The last group of people finally settled, way back in the room, some almost being pressed into the walls. They did not wear the finery of nobility, nor did they wear the armor of the Juna. Rather it was a mishmash of tunics in different colors, long pants, soft boots, crude leather or steel plates that covered the chest or joints. Their sullen faces more than the empty scabbards, hilts, and sheaths spoke of what they thought of their weapons being confiscated for the time being. A thin line divided them from the wealthy merchants trying to be as close to the noblemen as possible without actually sitting in their laps. Thugs and mercenaries seldom mixed with the upper echelon of Juna, but today was not an ordinary day.

The Mage took a few steps forward and placed himself in Dean's line of vision. Custom had been for Michael to always greet the guests and attendees on behalf of the King, but he took a step back when he saw the people in front of him softly place their right hand on their chests as they bowed forward. Michael turned his head to look at the King, his lips pinched in a disapproving frown that quickly smoothed out in a smile. He too finally acknowledged the king with a bow that more resembled him having hip pains than a proper greeting.

“The fire has breached the walls.” The King's voice carried throughout the hall, and a sharp inhale of breath soon followed by everyone erupting in loud questions or silent murmurs.

Some of the lords' faces had taken on a pale hue like they would be sick at any moment. Even though there was a commotion in the hall, no one made any steps forward to rush the throne or anything else fool-headed. Dean was still searching the crowd; people in a panic were apt to act foolishly. _Fear makes you pull the wolf's tail twice._

So far no one made a motion to storm the throne; probably a combination of the cold steel they all knew the Jade carried and the multitude of rumors about the mage's magical powers, which no one had really seen, but everyone knew he possessed. Nonetheless, Dean continued to search for any potential threat to the King's safety as he carried on with his proclamation.

“Anyone who is of able body and strong of mind will be allowed to take part in a quest or support it. Very trustworthy rumors, from a source that I can't disclose, have indicated that a feather will aid us in the protection of our kingdom against these mysterious fires that plague it.”

Dean's only reaction was a blink. He'd heard the discussions before, but the crowd in front of him had a variety of reactions to the proclamation, from open disbelief and suspicion, to fear and some even looked eager and willing to storm out the door right then and there.

“ _Any_ man is allowed to partake, be it of noble birth, beggar, merchant, or sellsword in the finding of this feather. The farmers outside the city are also welcome to join. The Juna farmers will be _supporting_ the kingdom by continuing with the tending of fields and crops. This search will commence in a fortnight and further instructions will be carried out by criers and couriers.”

Again there was silence until someone in the back shouted. “What about the reward, my King?”

The tension lifted as the people erupted in laughter. The King nodded, a smile playing on his lips for the first time since he'd entered the throne room. “Yes, there will be apt rewards for whoever manages to retrieve the feather. A Lordship title if you don't have one and land if you choose it, two thousand gold talons. And yourself or your heir or child appointed Shadow of the King. But the greatest reward will be the protection of Juna and the eternal gratitude of its citizens.”

Michael was looking at the crowd but turned his head when he heard the King declare the last announcement. He took a few steps towards the King and bent close to his ear, whispering frenetically.

Michael's' words were concealed to him but Dean could hear the King whisper, “Don't worry Mage, you will still have my ear.”

After a few more inquiries from the crowd, the King declared the meeting over and wished them all a speedy success in their endeavor. He walked out from the chamber, his black cloak billowing behind him and head held high.

Following behind the King, three of the Jade in front of him, Dean hoped the King's words would prove true.

***

A couple of days after the King's declaration every man, woman, and child knew about it. Cries could be heard in every corner of Juna, and news had traveled to the remote grain cities of Tok, Hammer, and Lovi, just on the edge of Juna. Not that the news would do much good to the farmers, cattle herders, and local fishermen, who were still duty-bound to do their tasks.

The usual sounds of a bustling town were muted as Dean walked through Pearl Alley, one of the more affluent parts of Juna, one afternoon. The local merchants seemed more quiet, speaking in muffled voices instead of crying out their wares and some of the shops had even boarded up their doors, despite it being a few hours left of the day. Even the pocket pickers, scrawny kids trying to either beg or in most cases steal from unsuspecting passersby were looking forlornly at nothing at all, most wishing to be home instead of out on the streets.

Neither that nor the breach was on Dean's mind though. As he turned into a side street of Pearl Alley into Jade Path, he looked down at the cobblestones and smiled. The stones were smooth, a testament to the multitude of feet that had worn it down over the years, but it was regularly painted in the color that gave the street its name. This section of Juna was one of the oldest, back when Juna was nothing but a small fishing village.

“Jade,” a man in the city guard greeted him as he passed by.

Dean nodded in greeting. “Everything quiet this evening?”

The guard scoffed and grabbed his sword as he spat. “You'd think the whole town is dead. If it were not for my duties, I'd run along and fetch that feather. I heard it's down south, through the mountains. Makes sense. It is known the eagles live there.” As if remembering who he was talking to the guard suddenly bowed, murmuring nervously, “No offense, Jade. I spoke without thought.”

“No offense taken. Good evening to you.” With that Dean continued on his way, the clank of his armor a comforting sound.

Soon Dean was deep inside Jade Path. There on the left side, a small stone house with a purple door was nestled close to a larger, walled-off, two-story brick house on one side. On the other side was a pathway perpendicular to the main path, wide enough to carry through carts.

Dean knocked on the door, his gloved hand, making considerable noise. He could hear scuffling and someone cursing inside before the door suddenly opened.

“What is so important at this hour?” A tall man with long, shoulder-length hair and the white tunic of sleep, scowled at him. When he saw Dean, his angry face turned to one of mild surprise, and then he smiled.“It's you. Come in, come in.”

Dean let himself inside. “It's me.” He took off his gloves and followed Sam inside to the kitchen area.

“Sit down, Dean.” Sam looked around in the kitchen. “Do you want tea? But I figure by your late appearance you are not here for refreshments.”

Dean shook his head. “It is refreshing to see you still treat me as your older brother.”

Sam scoffed at that. “You _are the_ older brother. I will not simper before you, especially not in the privacy of my own home.”

“I do not except a simper, how about a respectful Jade before my name?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Outside this house, I will address you with all the proper titles. In here you will always be the brother I saw run like 'Old Nick' was after you. But to be fair geese can be terrifying.”

Dean shrugged. “I just stole one egg, don't know what all that commotion was about. They had others. 'Old Nick?'” He regretted the question as soon as he saw Sam's eyes lit up. Here came a speech.

“Some books claim that Nick was an actual person dealing with witch-craft but _others_ claim he was something called a 'devil', apparently a much-feared creature with the power to condemn a soul to a kind of eternal torture. It seems the sources vary on how this Nick looked, or if he was even real, he was described as –“

Dean cleared his throat, interrupting Sam's enthused talks. “This is all very... fascinating, Sam, but I need you to put down the storybooks about witches and Nicks and talk to me about what you have found. I don't have much time.”

Sam got up and walked out of the kitchen. A few minutes later he was back, carrying a pile of books. “I know you don't have much time. Azure fires in the city is a serious and grave matter but the lore on magical feathers is scarce. We don't even know what the azure fires really _are_ , just theories. We don't even know _how_ they manifest, just that the amount of fires has increased. And mind you, they seem to be solely contained within or around the vicinity of Juna. It has not always been like this so either, a decade or so _._ “

“Yes, when we were children we never knew about the existence of these azure fires.”

Sam dropped the books with a thud on the table. “ _Mystical creatures and mythical birds_ mention something called _The Karuda,_ it's a bird, supposedly breathing fire. Fighting fire with fire is always a possibility. The _Stymph_ birds have been known to devour humans and they could fire feathers from their own bodies. _Arcania Bestiarum_ does mention some types of dragons who are feathered and supposedly immune to the perils of fire, so those feathers could be an aid in combating the azure flames.”

Sighing, Dean glanced at the books. “This is all you managed to discern from these sources of yours?”

Sam straightened. “It's not much but three days of finding all the lore I can about mythical feathers... I can't promise it will be all-encompassing. And I was only able to search in one section of the Royal Library. There is another section beneath the Chamber of Tears but the Head Librarian, Metatron, guards his position jealously. I would be surprised if Metatron had other sources though; the King would have told you before sending you off to your mission, no?

“He would have.” Michael's anger could have been one of perceived slight. The King overriding him and following what in essence was a rumor must have irked him.


	2. Haunted House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a problem with ghosts and turns to Castiel who dabbles with crystals in a last effort to get rid of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern, ghost AU, Destiel, 500 words  
> Rating: GA

"So how long have you been into this cr... um, stuff, Castiel?" Dean scratches the back of his neck, eyeing all the hocus pocus in the room. He tries to have an open mind, really he does, the guy is hot as fuck but he can't help but feel some of that sexiness is detracted by... well, all the crystals and gross-smelling sticks burning and bead drapes. Beads!

But he'd promised Charlie he would give it a shot, if not for the reason that things had really happened at the house. No wonder it had been so fucking cheap. The place was in need of a serious fixer-upper and with the other activities going on, the previous owners wanted the house sold pronto.

Dean picked up a green crystal, inspecting the smooth stone. And what did this thing do? Act as a portal to another dimension?

"Since I was my child. My mother practiced this crap too."

Dean made a grimace, hoping Cas didn't notice. "Uh, right."

"That's a malachite. Interesting that you chose that one."

Dean was on the verge of asking why that was so fucking interesting but Cas beat him to it.

"It's a powerful transformative crystal. Good for those that have difficulties maintaining relationships, or for those who experience something constantly going wrong." 

He looked at Dean, calmly, but Dean could have sworn a smirk shadowed his face for a second before he was his normal, serious self. 

As far as he knew, Cas seemed serious. Who wouldn't be when they probably had to live on beans and sprouts and listen to gongs while falling asleep? Looking to his right, Dean saw a small gong on a shelf. Of course, he had a gong.

Dean dropped the stone. “I see. Not for me then.”

“Mm.”

Mm to you too. For being a supposedly calm new-age dude Cas was doing a remarkable job of raising his blood pressure.

“What about this one?” Dean picked up a shiny, orange gemstone.

“That's an orange sapphire. Quite rare.” Cas' lips quirked into a smile.

Dean was almost afraid to ask. “So, what's this rock's magic?”

“It gets your rocks off.”

“What?”

Cas looked down, grabbed a notebook, and when his eyes landed on Dean again, Dean felt it like someone had punched him. There was such intensity in that gaze that he had to look away for a second. Who the hell was this guy anyway?

“It opens up the solar chakra, the source of creativity and sexual energy. They are a great aid in improving the quality and quantity of orgasms as while as enhance the sex drive. You'll fuck like a king and orgasm like a God with it.” Cas smiled. “They are also good for creativity, great for poets and writers.” As an afterthought, Cas added. “But you're not here for that, are you, Dean?”

Dean bit his lips. How could what he was about to say be worse than talking about sex stones?

“I need a fucking stone, no– uh, a stone for protection.”

All playfulness vanished from Cas' face as he leaned in closer to Dean. 

Dean inhaled sharply. Cas was fucking gorgeous.

“What kind of protection?”

Dean swallowed. Just fucking say it. “I think my house is haunted and um... a ghost is out to get me.”

“This is a serious matter.” Cas scribbled something in his notes, then stared Dean dead in the eyes. “Where do you live? I fear this will require a house call.”


	3. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds Castiel stabbed to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon compliant, Destiel, 500 words  
> Rating: M
> 
> MCD. Stabbing, grief.

Looking down at Cas' body on the ground Dean couldn't shake off the feeling that Cas was just sleeping. He refused to acknowledge the knife lodged in Cas' heart, Jack holding Cas hand, tears streaming down his cheeks. Dean wanted to join him but he was afraid that if he started he would never be able to stop. His sorrow was thick in his throat. Faintly Dean could remember the last time Cas had died, and what fucked up lives they all had for there to be a last time. The black shadows of wings on the grass, Sam rushing inside the cabin to look for Lucifer's son and his own numbing pain.

  
  


Dean never learned. In what fucked up universe did he ever think he would deserve someone that mattered to him? And when he finally opened up, finally had the courage and the notion that maybe it was OK, and that he was worth it and said those words of love, goddammit, cause that was what was in his heart. Nothing in his heart but love for Cas. This happens and it's so fucking ridiculous that Dean wants to laugh, and he wants to lay down next to Cas and cry and cry.

  
  


Thoughts run parallel tracks in his mind, and he is dimly aware that he has been praying to God all this time, Chuck or fuck whatever his name is, please don't let him die, please don't let him die, please don't let him die, and he can hear Sam say something, but it's just sounds, incoherent waves that travel to his eardrums and his brain refuses to decipher.

  
  


Magic is gone, Heaven and Hell are in some state of calm and no one gives a shit about Cas, and Jack's powers are gone and Cas' grace is gone cause he gave it away. For him. For them but mostly for himself cause in the end he loved humanity more than his own kind and wanted to be human. Wanted to be with Dean. He wants Billie to appear. She ignores him, they are all silent, turning a deaf ear to his pleas.

  
  


A sudden spark of anger ignites in him. He has done fucking everything everyone had ever asked of him, saved the planet several times over, and everything for them or someone else, for Sam, or Jack, hell even for Rowena but never for himself, for Cas he would do anything, but never for himself, until recently. He glances at the knife and realizes there was a time he would have grabbed the blade and thrust it into his chest without hesitation.

  
  


This was to be another time, with him and Cas finally together and they got it. For three months and two weeks and six days of pure bliss and now Cas is dead, stabbed to death by a robber. A knife to Cas' heart and Dean's heart is dead with him.


End file.
